


Prank War 8

by sjofn



Series: The Prank War [8]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-09
Updated: 2011-03-09
Packaged: 2017-10-25 00:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sjofn/pseuds/sjofn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The conclusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prank War 8

**Author's Note:**

> Beta’d by the wonderfully talented [](http://onychophoran.livejournal.com/profile)[ **onychophoran**](http://onychophoran.livejournal.com/) 

_  
**Prank War 8**   
_

Title: Prank War 8  
Author(s): sjofn0nott  
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Nathan/Charles  
Summary: The conclusion.  
Rating: PG13  
Warning(s): I think I gave myself diabetes by writing this.  
Word Count: 650  
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING! I will NEVER make any money from this!  
Author’s Note: Beta’d by the wonderfully talented [](http://onychophoran.livejournal.com/profile)[ **onychophoran**](http://onychophoran.livejournal.com/)  

“I’d like that.” Charles said over the sounds coming from the hall, scant seconds after Nathan had confirmed his meaning.

Neither one of them seemed to be at all inclined to stop eating ice cream or interrupt their conversation to find out what had the Swede screaming.

“You can pick the place if you want; I always screw these things up.” Nathan said before taking another bite.

“I’m not going to scream at you like the harpies you usually date over what restaurant you choose. It doesn‘t really matter to me where we go.” Charles said. The last few minutes, starting with the moment when Nathan’s lips had touched his hand, had been surreal. It hadn’t even occurred to him to say no. Nathan was actually interested; the complications this may present could be damned.

The singer didn’t respond, he just continued to work on his sundae. He was smiling as he ate, so Charles wasn’t worried that he had taken what had been said wrong. He had meant it when he’d called the frontman’s exes harpies, but it hadn’t been very diplomatic.

The screaming in the hall was getting louder and louder. The kitchen door slammed open and Toki ran in, followed closely by Skwisgaar.

As the younger man ran pell-mell across the room, Nathan burst into raucous laughter. Charles tried his best not to join him, but was unable to control the spasm of laughter that finally broke through. Both of the guitarists were blue, the Swede’s hair was a mass of blue tangles. They were both wet, no shirt or shoes. Toki was wearing a pair of pajama pants. Skwisgaar was wearing only a towel and brandishing a hairbrush as he chased the rhythm guitarist.

“What’s he saying?” Nathan gasped as he wiped tears of laughter from his face.

“That he is going to kill Toki, and that he ah, um, that he will never, um. Well. That parts of their relationship have come to an end.” Charles said.

“I got Toki, it still counts.” Nathan said, still laughing.

“Yes, but Skwisgaar was caught in the crossfire, so to speak. That looks like it hurts.” Charles said as the former blonde finally caught up with his younger counterpart and started viciously beating him with the hairbrush.

“Should I break it up?” Nathan asked.

“It’ll be easier if we do it together.” Charles answered.

“Alright.” They crossed the room and Nathan grabbed Skwisgaar by shoulders as Charles took the hairbrush from the blonde’s hand and stepped in between the two guitarists.

“Skwisgaar, listen to me. Calm down. The dye will wash out of your hair. It isn‘t permanent.” Nathan said as he held the struggling man still.

“Du! Jag skall dräpa eder.” the former blond spat out as he continued to struggle to free himself from Nathan.

Charles stepped closer and said in a low voice, “No, it was us. Skadar honom och jag kommer skada dig.”

“That‘s nice.” Nathan said in a soft tone.

“What?” Charles questioned.

The frontman relaxed his hold on the guitarist, keeping only one large hand on the struggling man, and stepped closer to his manager.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak Swedish before. Say something else.”

“Pratar du svenska? ” Charles asked in open curiosity.

“Inte så bra.” Nathan answered carefully enunciating the unfamiliar syllables.

Toki had been slowly creeping from the room since Nathan had grabbed his attacker. The sound of the door swinging closed alerted the Swede to the younger man’s escape.

Skwisgaar struggled against the hand holding him in place. He was trapped and he was being ignored. This was bullshit.

“Lets me go Nathan! He ams gettings awayske!” Skwisgaar shouted after a few seconds of futile struggle.

“What? Oh. Fine. But give the kid a break, I mean, he’s blue too. And he could kick your ass if he wanted to. I think you know that.” Nathan answered with a halfway stifled laugh as he delivered the last line. His mirth sent Charles into fits of laughter again and Skwisgaar tore huffily from the room, almost losing his towel in his hasty retreat.

“That was fucking entertaining.” Nathan said, as soon as the Swede had cleared the room.

“It really was.” Charles agreed. “Tonight was something else.”

“Something else good or something else bad?” the singer asked, suddenly serious.

“Good. Definitely good.” Charles answered, laying a hand on the larger man’s arm to emphasize his point.

“That’s good then.” Nathan stated with a grin as he pulled the other man into an unexpected, though not unwelcome, hug.

“I had fun tonight, Before the smurfs showed up.” The singer said as he rested his cheek on the top of the smaller man’s head. It was something the manager could get used to, being hugged like this, all his normal stress and worry had faded to nothing.

“I did too.” Charles answered from inside the circle of the larger man’s arms.

“Tomorrow night sound good to you?” Nathan asked as he released his hold on his manager.

“Any night sounds good to me.” The smile his answer brought to Nathan’s face was more than worth the mild embarrassment the unintentional admission had cost him.  



End file.
